


Who is Uncle Moony?

by Lurker2



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Short mention of 11th Doctor
Genre: Asthmatic Remus Lupin, Dumbledore is a War General, Gen, Good Albus Dumbledore, Graffiti, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mention of corona, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Trans Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 11,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurker2/pseuds/Lurker2
Summary: Remus sends the occasional notes and bits of candy on Harry's birthdays. Harry keeps wondering who 'Uncle Moony' is.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Past Sirius Black/James Potter, Petunia Evans Dursley/Vernon Dursley, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 84





	1. A very Mysterious Cookie

Harry stared at the cookie as if it was a mysterious apparition from another world. It looked fresh, and brown, and still warm, and slightly sticky, like it didn't want to let go of the envelope which it had fallen out of. In all his life he had never gotten a warm cookie, only whatever Dudley leftover - and they were usually store-bought. Aunt Petunia didn't like baking, considering it too messy for too little result. To be fair, she wasn't very good at it. He looked at the envelope again. It was fairly simple, with just enough room for one cookie.

_For Harry, from your Uncle Moony_ , it said. 

While Harry thought his uncle could be a bit moony, he highly doubted that Uncle Vernon would give him cookies. In a envelope, no less. 

He ate the cookie and ended up daydreaming that Uncle Moony was a alien from the moon. That would explain all Harry's... oddities. 

He didn't think much of it in the next few months, until one bright day in July, on his way to school, he got hit at the back of his head. When he turned around, ready to fight Dudley -and lose-, he saw a neatly wrapped package and a bird darting away.

_Happy Birthday!_

_Uncle Moony,_ was written in the same neat and tiny handwriting as the envelope. He picked it up, hoping it wasn't broken from being dropped by a bird on his skull. 

It contained a birthday card and a small model airplane, chocolate (some different tastes), _Drooble's Best Blowing Gum_ and a quill made of sugar. The card was a generic 'happy fifth birthday' one and a scribbled message:

_Harry,_

  
_~~It isn't much but it's from a good heart.~~ I hope you'll enjoy this. Happy Birthday!_

_Love,_

_Moony_

  
  


Oh, that was right, it was his birthday. Dudley always invited friends to his birthdays, or people he wanted to show off to, but Harry had no friends, so he didn't. He took some chocolate and began to walk again, slowly, just in case Dudley decided it would be funny to ambush him. Later when school was over and Harry watched Dudley go into Pier's house, he went to a usually abandoned playground. The playground looked like some architect had, at the last minute, remembered parents with kids might, for some inexplitable reason, decide to live here, and that those parents might, ocassionally, demand their kids go outside and pretend to play with kids' things, like swings and slides and playhouses and something that might vaguely resemble 'nature', planted by someone who firmly associates nature with thorny bushes, too long grass, and dogpoo. Then a lot of teens had taken over and quickly filled it with the familiar trash; old magazines, cans looking to hide their pee-stained glory in the long grass, and some things that only be left there on a dare and are best off not being mentioned here. And there, on the swings, sat a man. 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry thought it was rather risky to sit on the swings, or perhaps brave in a rather suicidal sort of way, considering they were rusty and squeaky, and held up mostly by what he hoped was duck tape, though not as brave as it would be to use the slide, which was so filled with rather suspicious stains it was impossible to see it’s old color, or the sandbox, which at one point might have contained sand but now looked like a chemical experiment gone wrong. The man, however, looked just as out of place as the playground, so it all kinda fit.   
  
Now, you might be forgiven to think that the man on the swing was Uncle Moony, for so did Harry, at first. So, naturally, he sat down on the other swing and observed the man. It was definitely a very _strange_ man, who wouldn't look out of place among wizards trying to mingle with muggles (though Harry couldn't know that). He barely looked at Harry - or anything, really. He seemed to stare at the ground, or the distance, or nothing in particular. 

'Are you a strange man?' Harry ventured after some minutes of this. The man smiled grim but fond at the same time, at a memory. 

'Strange? I think I'm incredible,' he muttered, before looking at Harry, with the faintly surprised air of someone who had been deep in thought. In reality, he had gone into trance, and a small snippet of the future had bled throught; another child, on a swingset. 

'Aunt Petunia always warns Dudley not to go with strange men,' Harry said. Aunt Petunia had never really bothered with the same warnings for Harry. Harry thought she wouldn't mind -not as much- if he went with strange men. What happened if you went with them (what _could_ happen), was vague and horrific. 

'She's right,' the man replied smiling, now looking a bit more focused.

'Are you sad?' Harry asked. 'Dudley always snacks when he's sad or angry. Do you want some?' 

He held out some candy. 'The chocolate is really good,' he offered.  
  
'The opposite world,' the man said, with a small grin. 'Kids offering candy to adults.'   
  
He looked younger now, the previous darkness having fled his face to his eyes. 

'No thanks,' he added now, seemingly sobering. 'I'm sure it's good, but I think you could use it more.'

Harry shrugged and ate some. 

'You say Dudley snacks when he is sad or angry,' the man said, carefully, seemingly despite himself. 'But what do _you_ do?'

Harry paused. 'I just... keep going and doing my thing. Sometimes I go to - ' he broke off.

The cupboard was Not Allowed to be discussed.   
  
'What's your name?' he asked, changing the subject.   
  
'I'm The Doctor.'   
  
Harry stiffened. 

  
'Not that kind of doctor!' The Doctor hurried to say, having picked up on his distress. 'Just... that's the name I chose.'   
  


He held out his hands in the universal gesture of peace. 'That's all.' 

'You are not a-a shrink or something?' Harry wasn't sure what a shrink actually _was_ , but when the word was ever uttered by Vernon, it was always spoken with a mix of fear and disdain, and the word sounded scary.   
  
'Don't worry about it,' The Doctor said. 'Its just a name.' (' _A name is a promise you make,' he'd tell Clara on one of their many adventures, but he hadn't done that yet.)_  
  
'Why are you here?' Harry asked, just to be certain.

'I wanted a place alone,' he said. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus thinks back on his time in Hogwarts.

They had all known how Sirius felt about James. It had gone from sleep-slurred 'I love you man' to awkward clarifications ("Like, _really_ love you") to sneaked kisses in lonely nights. But before that...

_'I love him and he only loves bloody Evans!'_

_It wasn't_ quite _what was said, but there was a distinct undercurrent to Sirius' quiet moping's. Of course he could never tell, they both knew that. James had only eyes for Lily, and things would only get awkward._

 _Remus was certain no-one would end the friendship (Sirius was only_ gay _, not a_ werewolf, _and it was hardly unusual for teenagers to find...comforts in the dorms_ ) _but, well._

_'Sirius, why won't you come outside? It's beautiful weather,' Peter said, in what Remus considered a spectacular display of insensitivity, but he held his tongue._

(Perhaps if he hadn't... no use thinking about that now)  
 _Outside James was trying to ask Lily out for what had to be the 1000th time, and getting rejected, no doubt._  
 _'Is it the letter?' he asked carefully. Sirius had gotten a letter from home. Again._

(That was the the summer where he ran away to the Potters, Remus remembered with a lurch in his stomach, fingers gripping his glass tighter)

 _He had ripped it, or burned it at wandpoint_ (Remus couldn't remember which, he had gotten fairly creative later on. At one point he had ripped it up and turned every snippet in a lovely pink paper bird forming James' head to serenade Lily with, saying that this way they at least did something good. The spell hadn't quite worked -at some point several slurs of Mrs. Black slipped out and sometimes James voice got high and shrill- but it was still fairly impressive) _and gone upstairs, throwing himself on his bed (_ later Remus had learned it wasn't a anti-gay letter as he had initially suspected, but a anti _Potter_ letter. It boiled down to 'if its boys you want, we know some lovely purebloods, but why do you want _Potter_?!'. Sirius had been surprised at Remus suspicion. 'No, for keeping the blood pure it doesn't matter if its men or women, why would it? I mean the men inherit most of the money, so its actually quite advantageous.' When Remus had delicately brought up children, the puzzled reply was along the lines of 'no, _of course_ that's not a problem.' He didn't even _try_ to explain how muggles thought about it afterwards, figuring it would be too alien to comprehend, even for someone who was quite into muggles like Sirius.)  
  
At one point Sirius had discovered Nirvana and he had, as he told them on the train, gleefully tormented his family by playing every record he had of them as loudly as he could, with the door baricaded, throughout summer hols. 

Nobody was quite sure how it happened, but at one point, after a Quidditch match won by a rather brilliant action by James, they had all fallen asleep on the couch and woken up to James and Sirius, holding hands. Both, it seemed, giddy with joy. They had held hands all the way to the Great Hall, and later, for some nights, Remus woke up from someone sneaking past, or the sounds of a kiss. Nobody ever really discussed it, but the group seemed split in two after that; James and Sirius, and Peter and Remus. Sometimes Remus thought Peter seemed a bit resentful, and he certainly had been happy when it looked like it was going to be James & Lily, and the rest, but he must've imagined it. They never 'ended' it, there was just a point where James... stopped. He went out with Lily and that was that, then. Maybe... maybe that was why Sirius had done it, he thought in hindsight. It wasn't exactly proper, to not even discuss it or anything, just stone-walling until Sirius worked it out for himself. But for one summer (the best of Sirius' life, he thought), he and James had been a total item. 


	4. Chapter 4

Something knocked against the TARDIS' window. This wouldn't have been all that surprising if they had landed somewhere, but they hadn't, and the insistent sound of a regular sized beak against the window of the TARDIS became a little disconcerting if you remembered they were hurling through the Time Vortex. 

With a slight shock and rather unexpectedly, they landed and Harry, now roughly 7 years old, opened the door. A rather harried and disgruntled looking owl dropped a small package and flew away, only to return and perch itself on top of the TARDIS. Harry looked around. They were... well, it _looked_ like Rio. Hesitant, he opened the packet. In it was what he had come to expect: special candy and a toy, accompanied by a birthday card signed ' _Uncle Moony'._

They hadn't found who it was yet, despite spirited attempts to narrow it down by handwriting and genealogy. Not even analyzing the candy worked, as the technology shortened out, sometimes sparking, sometimes making a last mournful noise. 

Harry looked at the owl, who promptly send him a baleful glare that threatened death and dismemberment (not necessary in that order) if he so much as _mentioned_ 'returning' or 'letter' in its presence. 

The Doctor came out and not even ten minutes later they were on the run from a tropical monster.

Afterwards, they brought the owl back to its own time, scorched and tired but alive.

When they landed again, everything was quiet around them. 

'1926,' The Doctor pronounced, and they opened the door. Outside, there was a small field, and a young man ran in their direction, followed by a small group of other people firing colored beams at him. Panting, he ran towards them.

'Help me, please, they're nearly hatching! They need a warm and soft place -' 

'On it!' The Doctor interrupted, and while the TARDIS started VHOOM-ing the man jumped aboard.

'My name is Newt,' he said awkwardly and then: 'Wow, its bigger then my suitcase.'

'I should hope so,' The Doctor said drily, as he fiddled around with a appliance that would create a heatbubble. 'What happened to the mother?' he asked. 

'Killed for her silver tusks,' Newt said and for a few seconds he seemed hard and unyielding and sad, and it reminded Harry of The Doctor when he had had to kill a nest of aliens. Then Newt smiled softly at the eggs and it was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

The eggs - put on a small pile of clothing and kept warm by a heater the Doctor rigged up with help of a energy cell from the TARDIS - made small creaky and scratchy noises, while Newt kept watch and the Doctor attempted to find alternatives to the electronic 'whatsits' that he had previously used to examine the candy. 

Harry made tea and wandered the TARDIS in search of a forest-room, but instead he found a small field of grass with a goalie and a ball. The grass was red with patches of silver, of course, but the ball was, it seemed, a regular leather ball. Harry hoped it wasn't a doomsday device in disguise (that had been a fairly bad day), as he carefully kicked it. It didn't explode. A second kick didn't unleash a paralysing or choking gas. Encouraged by this, Harry began to kick it around properly.

When he came back, it was to a almost painful metal-on-metal-noise, which nobody seemed to notice, as the Doctor was practically interrogating their guest with that typical excited glint in his eye that he always had when discovering something new. He was leaning forward, for once completely focused. 

'-the Ministry of-' 

Suddenly Newt broke off as he saw Harry. 'Nevermind,' he said hastily. 'They just don't _do_ anything about this! They're gonna be on the brink of _extinction_ if they keep being poached like this! Its just _so_ frustrating!'

With a loud _shrieek_ one egg hatched and then the small pile got upheaved by the eggs at the bottom hatching and before they knew it there were chitterings and teeth _everywere_.

'I'm beginning to get a little less sympathy,' Harry muttered, having kicked one off his feet while Newt, slightly panicked, began to chatter back at them. It was in a lower frequency then the young ones and - when he was less panicked - sounded not dissimilar to a light purring noise, as they settled down and began to follow Newt around. Now that Harry looked properly, he decided they had to be the weirdest animal he had ever seen (saying something). Some had silver tusks (girls, he thought) and some had horns, and apart from that they looked like a weird cross of reptiles and geese. They had leathery wings, and no feathers but scales, but they did have the bird legs and, now that he thought about it, birdlike sounds. 

The Doctor, of course, was utterly fascinated. Harry, remembering the bite in his foot, distinctly less so. Newt seemed used to it. 

It took less then five minutes to realize they were not exactly... potty-trained, shall we say. 

The TARDIS, as it turned out, did not particularly _like_ being dirtied, even if it _was_ just a chick. The result was several minor explosions, one or two forced ejections, and a kitchen fire. 

Apologizing profusely, Newt helped cleaning up, which presumably was the only thing standing between him and whatever was out there. He not only apologized to the Doctor, but, as soon as he caught on, equally profusely and awkwardly to the TARDIS itself, trying desperately to communicate how sorry he was. It seemed, Harry observed, that it placated her somewhat. It helped that for the surviving chicks, there was a room arranged with a covered and easily cleanable floor. Now the only problem was the noises they made when Newt left them, or sat or lay down for a bit (for they did not recognize him then). Scarecrows did not fool them and there was, as the Doctor lamented, no time to grow a clone. At that Newt just gave him a blank look. 

In the days afterwards, it turned out that the bird/reptiles grew very fast and that they were, in fact, predators with the habits of killing their mom once they were old enough. 

'Good protection against overbearing mothers!' Newt panted as they all ran and hid in a closet. 'Less good for us.'  
  
'How do we get them out?'   
  
The Doctor, having theorized they were related to Velociraptors before, had primed the TARDIS for a somewhat prehistoric location, but he still had to activate it.

'I'm about to do something insane,' Newt muttered, before jumping out and running.

'Hey! Eyes on me!' he shouted, almost sternly. His voice betrayed no fear, although drops of sweat made their way from his forehead slowly downwards, and his eyes were wide and fearful. 'Longsnout! I can see you thinking, you know! Yellow! Eyes on me!'   
  


It didn't really matter what he said, and as he had told them before, he knew only how to calm them down, and had he known about how they grew up, he would have been more careful.   
  


But his bluff worked, for the time being at least, and that meant the Doctor could run, pull the lever and be back in the closet before they fully realized what had happened. Then, because _of course_ he would, Newt ran out of the door. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lupin deals with the fallout.

As Lupin put his shirt over his binder on that morning, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

The rest also went smoothly; inhaling (he noted he should get a new one soonish, but that would work now, with his new job), and hormones (ruefully he noted he was _still_ paying off the out-of-pocket), everything went smoothly until he heard a loud and insistent knocking. 

On his windowsill sat a owl with a official-looking letter. As he opened it somewhat reluctantly, he read:

_Dear Mr R J Lupin,_

_We regret to inform you that you have been banned from using our owls and need to pay a fine of 25 Galleons for severely mis-using the owl you loaned. When he returned, not only were there scorch-marks on him and in-explainable burns, it seems he also got some psychological problems, violently and viciously attacking anyone who uses the word 'letter'. As you no doubt can understand, this is a bit of a problem in a company mainly used for the sending of letters. It can only be credited to your usage of it._

_Sincerely yours,_

Lupin barely glanced at the name. 25 Galleons... he definitely did not have that. That meant disappearing, using anti-owlpost spells on himself and where-ever he chose to live, or else... he didn't know what else, really. Maybe he could arrange to pay in terms, but what if he got fired or had to leave his job? Well, he decided, showing that you _wanted_ to pay might help win some goodwill, even if...

So he sent a letter back, and went to the muggle school where he taught English, and hoped things would work out.

The class was a fairly relaxed bunch, he was informed by a headmaster with the first streaks of grey in his long hair. And it wasn't his first time. He remembered his first time vividly, having to actually show authority, not knowledge. It had been difficult but he had really needed the money. So he had learned and in return, taught. He smiled fondly at the memory.

 _Remus smiled faintly at the class when he entered._ _  
_ _‘My name is Remus Lupin. I am your new teacher English. Today we’ll cover the context of 1984, by George Orwell. Now - ‘_ __  
_A wad of paper hit him, and it went downhill from there. Paper airplanes were thrown, books were ‘lost’..._ _  
_ _When he entered the room the next day, he had decided on a course of action. Casually removing a fart cushion from his chair and catching the expected wad and returning it to the sender, he stood and waited until it calmed down. He made no move to check the time, showed absolutely_ no hint of impatience, until at last they all stopped talking. 

_Then, he calmly inventoried who still didn’t have the book and asked them what they thought they would do about it? For now, he said, you can share. But if you can’t find it in a week, you’ll have to pay for a new one with your own pocket money. The next week, they had their books._

When he got home that day, there was a letter waiting for him, stating that they accepted his proposal and that they couldn't ascertain what had happened, but it hadn't been magic. 

A bit confused, he hoped James’ son wasn’t in danger and focused on paying off. Next year he might not be able to send anything at all, he thought. Would Harry miss it? 

Nah, he decided. It was only some candy and cheap toys.


	7. Chapter 7

A tall and lanky figure stumbled into the TARDIS. His coat was ripped in places, he had several smaller and bigger wounds, and he had a lot of branches en leafs in his hair, and his entrance was nothing short of a collapse, but he seemed to be semi-conscious. 

The Doctor closed the doors and examined him. He looked more exhausted then hurt, he thought, but there was some skin that looked like it _just_ healed, which should be impossible.

With a faint smile he picked Newt up, as best as he could, and opened the door where the sickbay now was. He carefully bandaged most wounds and left him to rest in peace. 

When Newt woke up, the first thing he remembered was being picked up, and the Doctor smiling down at him. 

Involuntary he smiled at the memory.  
  
He realised he was in a bedroom. In the walls, orangereddish spheres emitted a soft light, illuminating several paintings. Opposite the bed hung a painting of a ladytree. _Jabe of the Forest of Cheem,_ it said. It was rather well done, he thought, and he wondered where she was now and if she would be happy to be immortalised in this way. Next to her hung someone simply called _Steward of Platform One._ This man was blue, with a brown stripe on each side of the nose, starting somewhere under what he was wearing on his head and going on a little past the nose. He was dressed all in grey and, like the treelady, he didn't speak. The same went for the others; a young girl with a odd white thing on her head and simple clothes called _Gwyneth,_ someone called _Eva San Julienne,_ a man with short dark hair in a living room, seeming to be perpetually sad and regretful, with, for whatever reason, a stone in his head. Apart from that he looked unambigiously human.

'Didn't take to him straight away,' the Doctor said. He chuckled darkly. 'He tried to steal technology and advanced information, and then lied to me about it. I threw him out. Later...' he hestitated. 'I went back to locate him. He had to flee from job to job, being too talented for his own good.' He sighted. 'Told me it was for his Mum, hoping to find a cure for her. I realised I may have been a tad bit harsh with him.' He pointed to the portrait. 'Made that right before deciding to remove that forehead thingy. Took him for one last trip to the place we went to last time.' His face seemed to harden. 'He died overloading the enemy with information. Long story.' 

There was a pause while he gathered himself.

'Anyway, I just came to see if you where awake already!' he said, sounding almost normal, now. 'You _have_ to tell me more about the Wizarding World! Harry will be so excited to hear about it, we might be able to find this Moony!'   
  
Newt hesitated. The Doctor, as he had easily admitted, was not a wizard. But he said he wasn't a Muggle either, and looking around he could believe it.

'Why don't your portraits talk?' he asked. The Doctor looked puzzled. 

'Your portraits talk?' he asked eagerly. 'How?' 

Newt wasn't known for his knowledge of the arts, and Hogwarts hadn't covered it in-deptht, but he explained what he could about potions and enchantments. The Doctor listened on with rapt attention, and whenever there was a slight pause he asked more questions. Could Newt brew him a sample of the potions? How did spells and potions interact? How was it discovered? What was the culture around it? What about the candy? How come electronics failed when dealing with even small amounts of magic? How was the TARDIS still working? 

Surreptiously he scanned Newt with his screwdriver, but it just whined in protest after giving some very concerning readings. 

When he saw the Doctor later, fiddling with the console, he became aware of a slightly disconcerting fact; the Doctor was beautiful. Nimble fingers seemed to pet the machine at much as they repaired it (or improved. Nobody was very sure what the Doctor actually did, much less why). He wasn't often focused, but now he barely seemed to notice Newt as he came in. Newt paused. 

'Usually it's in the paint,' he said, slowly and carefully. 'The potions, I mean.'

The Doctor made no indication he had heard Newt. 

'But... I don't recall if anyone tried doing it over the paint,' he said, hesistantly. 'So... I don't see why not. It's not like they warn you that it blows up the planet or anything.' he chuckles.   
  
'Do what?'

'Try to make the portraits speak,' Newt said. 


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken a while to repair the TARDIS. Their experiment... hadn't blown up the universe. Not quite. But it hadn't left much standing of the room, either. The room flashed a bright red, and as he saw the Doctor grimace and holding himself up against the wall, Newt felt incredibly lost. The Doctor wasn't much help either; all he said was that he felt the TARDIS screaming in his head. His magic had...hurt her? But how? It had never done anything like that before! 

Later, the Doctor told him how the spells had badly interacted with some electronics which interacted with the TARDIS, on top of the effects they had on the TARDIS which... he really should've seen coming, considering she was partly - or maybe completely - sentient.

‘There you are!’ the Doctor said, with a slightly forced cheerfulness. ‘Back in your own time, London.’ 

Newt looked at him. He hadn't blamed Newt one bit for what happened, but ever since, he had been snappish and closed-off, looking sad whenever he seemed to think Newt couldn't see him. Newt wasn't sure if it was because of the destruction of his painting, a after-effect of the TARDIS, or the fact it had become impossible to experiment with magic - the Doctor steadfastly refused to call it that, referring to some dimension or other - but Newt ignored that. 

And now he had to leave and the Doctor would be alone - Harry had been dropped off earlier today. And Harry wouldn't be his companion for long, either. The longer he was out, the more risk there was involved. Not just of dying, but also of seeing things that would… change him too much for even the Dursleys to ignore it.

‘What will you do next?’ he asked, slightly worried.

‘Oh, you know,’ the Doctor said lightly. ‘Travel. Safe the universe a few times. Invent Killroy.’

The smile in his eyes had slipped a bit. ‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he added, guiding Newt out of the door. 

‘This isn’t London,’ Newt said. frowning. ‘Isn’t this Cardiff?’ 

A shadow slipped out from behind a few bins, into a darkened alley. 


	9. Chapter 9

Cardiff. They looked around. It  _ did _ look a lot like Cardiff. 

They were near a dark alley, and some bins. 

Somewhere, metal clanged against metal. Slowly, The Doctor looked up. 

Not too far from them, they saw a Cyberman hanging from a gutter, its feet hanging a bit above a metal bin. The Doctor looked to were Newt had been standing not two seconds ago.

He wasn’t there anymore. Of course not. With a curse he ran up to the roof and scaled it easily. Two roofs away he saw a man shaped shadow whirling. Then it was gone. Four roofs away a kid was running, and right behind him, a cyberman was climbing up. The Doctor didn’t hesitate for more then a second, before taking off after the kid in the distance. From the corner of his eye, he saw dark smoke rising.

* * *

When Marco fell, it took him a minute to realize he wasn’t hurling through the air and getting splatted. Instead, he merely stumbled back on a platform. He recognised it from the last time he had scaled it, and nearly jumped down in his hurry to get away, throwing a match in the mix of paint and gasoline he had spread through the building. Within seconds the first flames spread. It didn’t stop the metal man. 

**THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!**

Agonisingly slowly the footsteps fell behind him, as Marco ran towards the nearest shed, jumped up to the gutter and climbed the roof

**THUD!**

Was it just him or did he go faster now?

_ Creak!  _

The gutter nearly broke of, as the robot hanged on it. 

_ Sqeak!  _

Metal fingers sliding past metal and stone.

With a last THUD, the Cyberman fell. But by that time, Marco was several roofs away, being followed by the strangest man…

* * *

Lupin inwardly sighted as the door opened behind him. Putting the last of his papers in his suitcase, he looked up.

‘Hello Mr. Dursley,’ he said, calmly.


	10. Chapter 10

At last, the kid stopped running. Newt stopped too, at a reasonable distance from him. Now that he had time to look at him, he saw for the first time how young he seemed. What was he, twelve?   
He wore a grey hoodie which had almost fallen down completely, showing dark curly hair, and pants that were more dried up paint then cloth.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ Newt assured him. ‘What’s your name?’ 

‘Marco,’ he said, turning around. He wore a bandana, Newt realised.

‘Why are you wearing a bandana?’

Had he said that out loud?

Of course he had. 

‘Don’t you know?’ Marco asked, genuinely surprised.

‘Fraid not.’ 

‘Where are you from?’

‘London.’

‘Then surely you must know! It’s illegal to be out without a mask, nowadays. It’s the latest measure against the virus.’ 

‘The… virus?’

‘Yes, sorry, we gotta go save the world from Cybermen,’ The Doctor, having caught up with them, hurriedly dragged Newt away.’You were right, by the way, we are in Cardiff, some years off, I’m afraid.’

‘Doctor -’ 

‘Come on, if there is one cyberman, there’s always more. Like mice,’ the Doctor rambled, dragging Newt steadfastly away, back over the roofs.

‘Doctor, how many years are we off?’

The Doctor halted. ‘Uhm...several centuries?’ he said, looking slightly shifty.

‘Doctor…’ 

‘Decades!’ 

The word seemed to force itself out of his mouth against his will, before he rapidly continued.

  
‘But in my defence, at least several. Somewhat between the 21th and, uh, the 30th.’

‘...You don’t know, do you.’

‘Not with certainty, no,’ he admitted.

‘Can we get back?’

‘...Not really, no.’

* * *

‘Mr. Lupin.’ 

That was almost polite. 

‘I heard you gave my son detention on a trumped up accusation of bullying,’ Mr Dursley said, in a dangerously calm tone. 

‘I saw him bullying Sally, yes,’ Lupin replied, equally calm. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d almost call it sexual harassment.’ _Funny I never thought that about James. No wonder she didn’t want him until he grew out of it._

‘Ah, you know how it is, boys will be boys an’ all that,’ Dursley said, with a joviality he clearly didn’t feel.

‘It is my duty to punish bullying when I see it happen,’ Remus said firmly.

‘I sponsored a dorm. Can’t you cut my son a little slack?’

‘As I understand it, the dorm was a gift, and not a transaction,’ Remus said, in a voice like frozen steel. 

‘Very well,’ Mr. Dursley said at last. ‘I had hoped we could solve this ourselves, like reasonable adults, but it seems I’ll need to complain to your superior.’

‘As you wish, Mr. Dursley,’ Remus replied politely, and he continued his work. 

* * *

  
Several years back, at the tender age of seven and a half, Harry Potter made a teachers toupee blue when he considered it needed brightening up a bit.   
He had merely been daydreaming about what could possibly make the ratty toupe look a bit better, and there it had been in his head, a deep dark ink blue. He also considered pink, but he thought that’d be a bit much… and then he blinked and it was _there_!   
The Dursley’s didn’t buy it, of course. 

When he returned to school, the teacher had resigned. 


	11. Chapter 11

_‘Remind me why I’m putting up with you again?’_

_‘Because I’m awesome,’ Sirius replied. ‘And you can’t get rid of me. But mostly because I’m awesome.’ He grinned and winked._

_Remus smiled back, albeit a little tightly._

_‘This doesn’t mean you are forgiven, you know.’_

_‘Well,’ Sirius said, lightly. ‘I’ll watch my drinks from now on. Merlin knows what potions you’d put in.’_

_‘You don’t care at all, do you?’ Remus asked._

_‘He’d have found out either way, the git. He’d have told the school. At least this way, he won’t.’_

_‘_ If _he sticks to his word. But who would have believed him? I thought we’d agreed nobody would believe of a Slytherin, not to mention our arch-enemy, that ‘sweet studious Remus’ could_ ever _be a nasty, baby-eating_ werewolf?’   
  
_Sirius shifted uncomfortable._

_‘You_ used _me,’ Remus realised in horror. ‘You’d have had me take the fall for Snape's death!’_ _  
_ _  
_ _‘I_ am _a Black, you know,’ Sirius replied airily, as his face changed, becoming hollow and dark and enraged, until it turned into the face of the werewolf that had bit him at four._

With a shock, Remus woke up. Panting, he looked around him until he realised he was alone and safe. It was just a _dream_ , he reminded himself. Surely Siri- _Black_ hadn’t been like that in school. He had always insisted he was _different,_ that he’d never be like the rest of them or ‘that lot’. In real life, he had said that there had always been a risk of the werewolf attacking Snape if he snuck out, and at least this way it was controlled, _safe._ And honestly, Snape was _fine_ , Sirius and James had insisted. He shouldn’t make such a fuss about it.

They hadn’t understood, he had known, even then. In their mind, it meant danger averted for their friend, and nobody had come to harm. In _his_ mind, his worst nightmare had just been fulfilled. To his credit, even James had been disgusted and worried at what Sirius had done, and both he and Wormtail hadn’t spoken to him for several weeks. Remus hadn’t spoken to either of them in that time, too caught up in self-pity and fear of being a danger - or worse, a _weapon_ \- to be very social. He smiled wrily as he remembered it. And to think _he_ had been the one suspected of being a spy. 

Well, that was how its always been, he thought. Sirius and James were two peas in a pod, and occasionally he could join them. Peter, too, joined, but with him it really felt like he was ‘allowed’ in, as opposed to on his own merits. He had never stood a chance against Sirius. Sirius and James were the ones with the brilliant, outrageous ideas (though Remus remembered fondly when he, and he alone, had dosed them through their drinks to give them green and silver hair, for a full week, before they figured out it was him. That had cemented him as The Potioneer in their team. Poor Peter had had no such luck.)

A knock on the door shook him out of his memory.

‘Yes?’ he called out, not particularly wanting who-ever it was to come in.

‘Remus, its me, Steve. I teach History? Anyway, I just wanted to know if you’ve been feeling a bit better lately? I uh, made you some chicken soup. If you want it, it's in front of the door!’ 

‘Oh, uh, thank you very much Steve, I really appreciate it! I’ll get it, just gimme a minute and I’ll make some tea as well, if you want,’ Remus replied awkwardly, realising it would be rude to just leave Steve on the doorstep after bringing him some soup. 

‘I’m not contagious anymore,’ he added hastily. 

‘No, that’s okay, I’ve still got some grading to do,’ Steve’s deep baritone replied.  
  


‘Alright, thanks again!’

‘Not a problem!’ 

_Phew._ He was lucky Steve hadn’t decided to visit in the evening. Nobody else had come around while he was ill, let alone brought him some soup. It was in these moments he missed his friends the most. James and S- _the traitor_ used to come around and visit him in the hospital wing, regaling him with tales of their pranks, prank ideas, or whatever they had gotten up to. Peter brought him candy and notes from the classes, along with homework, James transformed or charmed things so that they did funny little dances, and Sirius never failed to bring his gramophone and favorite music, often singing along (off-key) with the more punky songs. Even when Harry was born, until the time for hiding came, they still attempted to visit him as often as they could. 

It was okay thought. He was better off alone, glad his muggle-colleague’s didn’t feel inclined to visit him or be friendly. Within months, he’d have to be gone anyway, he mused, as he made tea and ate his habitually checked chicken soup. So this suited him _just fine_. 

* * *

  
  


‘Is the human race dying out from a plague in the far future?!’   
  
‘I wouldn’t say _dying out_ per se, but things _changed_ , certainly. But look at how swiftly humanity adapted! Most people do everything in their power to help out, not just themselves, but also their fellow man! Unlike every plague movie I’ve ever seen.’

Newt shrugged. ‘Bit of a surprise,’ he conceded. ‘But still… all that advancement, for nothing?’   
  


‘Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet. All your sci-fi dreams have gone true, except the flying cars -that should take a few centuries-, everybody is connected to each other… we’ve almost achieved world peace!’  
  


‘Really?’

‘I don’t know, depends on the century. Close though.’

‘Yeah, from your perspective everything must be close - and muddied.’  
  
‘Just because _you_ could never pay attention to history…’ 

Newt coughed. ‘So, plague, Cybermen, anything else endangering the world right now?’


	12. In which Remus can’t help himself and Harry is not with the Doctor

‘Lupin.’

‘Dursley. Do you know why you are here?’

‘Because… you hate my guts?’ 

_Don’t be ridiculous, you aren’t worth hating._ ‘No, you are here for bullying Sally Donovan, rather severely. Tea?’

‘I know what you are, sir,’ Dudley said, and for a few seconds Lupin got worried, until he realised this was _Dudley_ . The young man who had claimed _reindeers_ didn’t exist somewhere last week.

‘Really now,’ he replied neutrally.

‘Nobody can _actually_ be that nice all the time. You _have_ to be a serial killer or something. I’m on to you.’

I can see the concept of being nice is foreign to you/have you been reading horror comics again?/ was that supposed to be threatening? were all responses that occurred to him, but he settled for: ‘well, bit of advice; never tell a serial killer you know he is a serial killer. Where do you get those ideas in the first place?’

‘My nephew had a serial killer as a teacher.’ 

_Paranoid thoughts in the family then._

‘We only heard from the headmaster at the end of last year. Harry fought him.’

Then he shut up, as if he’d said too much.

‘Well, if they had your nephew as a target, why would they come to you?’ Remus asked, trying to be logical. Dudley wouldn’t be the first anxious kid, and although he had little experiences in dealing with them, he hoped logic would help a bit. 

‘It's not _funny,_ ’ Dudley insisted, suddenly realizing Remus wasn’t treating the situation with the gravitas it apparently deserved. ‘The- he almost got killed!’ 

Oh dear. 

‘And last years gym coach was a vampire!’

‘At your nephews school?’

‘No, here!’ 

‘Why do you think that?’ 

‘Cuz he was pale, and he hated sunlight and garlic and crosses and he had a badge with ‘Vampire’ on it,’ Dudley said earnestly.

‘I...see. And did it ever occur to you,’ Remus asked as delicately as he could, ‘That maybe he was...joking?’ 

Dudley looked flabbergasted at this. 

Remus sighted inwardly. This would be a _loong_ afternoon. 

‘Alright, let’s try this apologising again,’ he sighted, some time later. ‘You are _not allowed_ to say ‘you deserved it,’ as a preface to a apology.’ 

‘But she did!’ Dudley ~~_whined_ ~~protested. ‘She called me ‘Piggy’!’

 _Can’t imagine why_. 

‘I’m just a-a growing boy!’

‘Dudley, the nurse negatively compares your weight to a _whale._ ’ 

(‘ _Whoa Remus, that was almost causic,’ Sirius said in his memory._

 _‘Me, caustic?_ Never,’ _Remus said, as innocently as he could. It was true, tho. He was rarely outright caustic. ‘How would I ever get away with that against someone who just learned the word ‘caustic’? Clearly such a person would see right through all my pathetic attempts at wit.’)_

‘My mother says -’ 

‘I _heard_ what she said,’ Remus interrupted, with great difficulty restraining himself _not_ to imitate her screeching voice. ‘It was pretty hard _not_ to. And I’m sure she means well. But the nurse actually studied for this, you know. I would _think_ she is a bit more aware of when it gets out of hand then your mom.’ 

‘But she negatevily compared me to a whale, doesn’t that mean I weigh less than?’ 

‘Yes, Dudley, but it also means that that's the only thing you weigh less than. Luckily, it was hyperbole, meaning you can still salvage it and become more muscled,’ Remus suggested, as kindly as he could, choosing not to correct Dudley’s butchering of ‘negatively’. ‘If you actually weighed so much, you’d probably be dead already.’ 

‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘Let’s try this again. How about I show you a example of how you are expected to do a apology. You are Sally Donovan.’ 

He walked up to him, hand outstretched. ‘Hello Sally, I’m really sorry about the wedgie, and the fact I called you a mean name and beat you up.’  
  
Dropping the slight exagaratedness, he returned to his teacher mode. ‘See? That's all you need to say. And I’ll talk to her about her use of ‘Piggy’, as well.’ 

‘You’re about to congratulate her on her originality?’

‘Truly, I’m wounded. How can you ever think that of me?’

Taking a leaf out of the traitors book, he put his hand on his heart and pretended to be hurt.

‘I’m not stupid, you know.’ 

That’s _why you’re only realizing it now?_

‘No,’ he said wearily. ‘I never said you were. And when I say talk to her, I mean telling her that she shouldn’t say it. I disapprove of it.’

‘I’m sure you do,’ Dudley remarked, surprisingly dry. 

* * *

_‘Hey you!’ James called out to a slightly plump, mousy boy. ‘It’s Peter, isn’t it?’_

_‘Y-yes?’ The boy turned around,seemingly nervous at being called._

_‘D’you think you could distract McG?’_

_The boy bit his lips. looking torn between not wanting to offend James and being scared of Professor McGonagal._

_‘It’s okay if you don’t,’ Remus said calmly, shooting James a Look. ‘We won’t hex you or anything. Promise.’_

‘ _No, I want to,’ Peter said, determined. ‘I’ll just ask her to help me with that spell, that should keep her busy.’_

Though he was hardly a natural at it, he turned out to be very good at inventive lies and flying under the radar - something James and Sirius barely managed with a invisibility cloak. Not booksmart by any means, he was nevertheless observant and clever, which greatly aided them all against the death-eaters later on, Remus remembered. At several points he had been crucial to Remus’ own survival among the werewolves, in fact. 

He had just been looked over and taken for granted a lot of the time. Remus regretted that now. Frankly, if it hadn’t been for his cowardice, he’d have been the perfect secretkeeper. He had never been one to foolhardy and impulsively attack anyone until S- _Black_ , he firmly reminded himself- betrayed James and Lily. Something must have snapped in the poor man, destroying his will to live and overactive survival instincts, he thought.

He remembered when James had gone too far at some point, and they had had to make do without their scout and look-out, although, as Black had said later, Remus had fulfilled the role most admirably. 

_‘I’m going to kill them!’ Sirius roared, pulling at his now glittery hair. ‘I’m going to go after them and bloody KILL THEM!’_

‘ _Yes, I’m sure they won’t see that coming at all,’ Peter replied, dry as a desert. ‘Only one small problem - you’d have to slip in and out unnoticed.’_

_‘I’ll use the Cloak,’ Black protested._

_‘Like last time?’_

_They all shuddered. ‘Last time’ involved a swinging chandelier, a clumsy Black, and a now-lost Map._

_‘Like you’ve got a better idea,’ Sirius grumbled, his anger subsiding somewhat._

_‘Not that that would be very hard, but yes, as a matter of fact, I have,’ Peter replied, to their surprise. The occasional snark to point out flaws or to calm someone down was to be expected (he'd hardly have been a proper Marauder if he_ wasn't _snarky at least some of the time)_ , _but_ Peter _coming up with a decent prank was unprecedented._

_‘We’re rubbing off on you!’ James crowed triumphantly. He patted him on the back. ‘We’ll make a Marauder out of you yet Peter!’_

_Peter smiled uncomfortable. ‘Now now, James, let's not overwhelm him with honours,’ Sirius said magnanimously. ‘Look, you’re making him blush.’_

_Remus smiled faintly at all this. ‘You’re barely giving him a chance to explain his plan,’ he chided. ‘He might forget if you distract him so, and then_ I’ll _have to come up with ideas to pick up the slack.’_

 _‘Merlin’s beard, that would be terrible,’ James replied. ‘You might actually need to_ do _something here.’_

 _Remus snorted. ‘Yeah, it's not like I made the Slytherins hiss all day, or bailed you out last week, or anything like that. No,_ clearly _I have yet to earn my keep here.’_

_‘That’s right,’ Sirius said, sending James a small Stinging Hex he automatically blocked. ‘Peter, we’re all ears. Show Remy how it’s done.’_

_‘Remy?!’_

_‘Well, look,’ Peter said, before modestly suggesting his plan._

Remus didn’t remember the plan, but he did remember it ended with the Map back and Sirius’ hair suitably avenged. At last, Peter had cemented himself into the group. 

He realised he was nearly crying now, drinking some Firewhiskey - it would’ve been his birthday now, and as such it was one of the rare cases Remus drank alcohol. On the table, a bottle exploded. 

* * *

_Harry,_ the message said. _I know it’s been sometime, but I didn’t have the means to give you a present until now. Happy Birthday!_

The box contained some superhero comics, with underneath another short note, saying merely _James loved these._

Harry wished the Doctor was here. He would probably have compared the handwriting and figured out who it was by now. The sample was certainly big enough. 

Instead, he had to deal with Mrs. Figg’s cats, of all things. Mrs. Figg herself was nice, offering him tea and books with _even more cats_ , as if the live ones around him weren’t enough. Those cats where _demons,_ he'd swear on it. Cat-demons.

‘Are you alright, dear? Do you want a book about Tibs’ youth?’

‘No thanks, Mrs. Figg,’ Harry replied. ‘I’ve had my annual fill of cats. Do you know,’ he continued, cherubic. ‘I never wish for animals after a day with you.’ 

‘Oh, I’m so pleased to hear that!’ she said, completely ignoring the sarcasm. ‘You know, I was almost afraid you’d get lonely and want for a dog or something. I would offer you a birthday-kitten but, well, Petunia wouldn’t be particularly pleased with that.’

‘And god forbid we give Aunt Petunia reason to be more displeased then usual.’

Figg beamed. ‘ _Exactly._ ’ 

Harry blinked, nonplussed.


	13. Chapter 13

_‘Whose idea was it to teach James_ dad _jokes?’ Remus asked aghast._

 _‘Well, I_ am _a dad,’ James pointed out._

 _‘Oh,_ really? _I had_ no idea _. You’ve only been saying so two times_ every minute! _’ Sirius pointed out, sounding rather frustrated. It was probably because of Regulus, Remus reflected. Sirius hadn’t been the same after his brother signed up to be a Death-eater, thought he had steadily gotten more bitter about his family since he left them, it has markedly increased when James chose Lily. Maybe that was when he had chosen - no. No use dwelling on_ that.

_‘He has every right to be proud of his kid,’ he said sharply, before asking James, ‘Is he handsome or more like you?’_

_‘He looks_ exactly _like me,’ James said, beaming. ‘We could be twins!’_

_‘Now there’s a disturbing image,’ Peter muttered. James cuffed him on the back of his head._

_‘Your genitals survived the ordeal then?’ Sirius asked lightly, having heard Lily’s various and rather creative threats against them when she gave birth._

_‘Well, it's still early days,’ James remarked.  
  
_

* * *

‘Why are you giving me this?’ Dudley asked, looking at the graphic novel like it could explode any second.

‘Because I know that if I don’t, despite my general offer, you would rather beat someone up and steal their work. This,’ he patted on the cover, ‘Is a lot less text then that,’ he gestured to the novels. 

Dudley looked stunned for a few seconds, before he grabbed the book and left.

‘Thank you Mr Lupin, lovely that you did this Mr Lupin,’ Remus muttered to himself. ‘Come on, it's not exactly rocket science.’ 

He shrugged. At least it had been accepted. The bigger letters _should_ make it easier to read. 

At the next report, he was pleased to see only a few sentences had been copied, although he _did_ report it to the administration. He gave it a B overall. 

* * *

Well, shit. Harry looked down. The building was not too high to jump off, he considered, but it wouldn’t be very pleasant if he landed wrong. 

‘How did you get up there?’ a teacher called up.

‘Well, _clearly_ I am just taking my afternoon stroll,’ Harry replied. ‘I _would_ say I’m Karlson of the roof, but I don’t have the right stomach for it. Could make myself the house, though, with all the stuff on here. Could you help me down please?’

‘Certainly, Mr. Smartypants,’ was the cool reply. ‘Was that the last book you ever read?’ 

The Dursleys were rather displeased he hadn’t just gone and died, expressing their displeasure in furious whispers punctuated by angry bellowing, and it earned Harry several days in his closet. Dudley, having just discovered the word ‘gay’ took great pleasure in asking Harry when he finally would come out of the closet whenever he came around, and Harry varied between saying things like ‘well, I’m glad _you’re_ open about it.’ and ignoring him, until he finally came out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Harry became the Doctors ocassional companion.

Harry ran. He ran as hard and as fast as he could, through the bushes, ducking and weaving past trees, and buildings, past the swings and, before he could stop, right into a blue policebox. Which wasn't, apparently, a actual policebox with a phone (which kinda sucked under the circumstances), but a portal to a big and rather flashy dimension, with a staircase he ran up, and a longwinding hallway that ended at a white door. In the room was a couch, a small tv and a handful of books. He stopped, panting and panicking, and realized he was lost, and at a deadend. Worse, it was completely empty. Dudley could murder him and no-one would ever know - or care. The door closed behind him, uncomfortably reminding him of horrormovies. Tentatively, he tugged at the couch. Unmovable. He looked at the books critically. Too thin to be weapons, he judged. And the tv was flat and stretched, secured to the wall, so also unusable. His best bet was hiding in here until they left. Hopefully they hadn't seen where he was and would think he wouldn't be stupid enough to get himself cornered in a phonecell. Which he shouldn't have been. What would he have done if it was a actual policecell? Call the police? 

There were footsteps outside his door, and hastily he ran to the wall opposite the door, hoping against hope that there'd be a secret door in there. Dudley must've entered and found him! The wall slid away. 

Well, things certainly were looking up today, Harry decided, upon seeing the next room, which contained a verifitable labyrint, filled to the brim with hiding places, nooks, crannies,and - for some unfathomable reason - blankets of varying weights and sizes. So he ran, and he hid, and when he grew too tired to run and hide, he curled up under a blanket which folded pleasantly around him. 

He must've fallen asleep, because next thing he knew there was a shadow over him. He nearly jumped, until he saw it was the really very strange man from earlier. 

'Hello,' the Doctor asked, quite calm and friendly, as if meeting someone new in his phonecell was something that happened every day. 'How did you get in here?'

'Uh. Nice place you got there, Mister Doctor,' Harry said, grinning awkwardly up at him. 'Roomy.' 

'...that's one way to put it,' the Doctor agreed. 'And please, don't call me mister. Doctor will do. But how did you get here?'

Harry bit his lip. He would rather not tell this stranger he was running away from his cousin. Questions may be asked, and the Doctor would surely think him a coward for running instead of standing up for himself. Everyone always said bullying stopped if you ignored the bully (but in your own house, that's rather difficult, to put it mildly), and certainly by standing up to him and punching him KO. The problem was, that Dudley's skull was simply too thick, and he was always with friends, who held Harry as Dudley ran towards him pretending to be a bull. It wouldn't be the first time he bruised his ribs, and that was just the start of it. 

'Tea?' the Doctor offered, suddenly dropping it. 

'Sure,' Harry said gratefully. 

'So,' the Doctor asked, once they arrived in something looking like a kitchen, if you squinted and ignored the various bits, pieces, experiments and general mess of it. 'Would this have anything to do with a group of boys 'round your age, 'bulling someone' as they called it?' Harry paled.  
  
The Doctor smiled grimly. 'I taught them a lesson.' 

'That's... good,' Harry muttered, not entirely sure what to make of it. 

'By the way,' the Doctor said casually, pouring him a new cup and giving him something called a Jammy Dodger, which tasted like cardboard and very sticky rubber. 'You're not on Earth anymore.' 

'...Whut??' 

'Didn't I tell you? This is a spaceship/timemachine. Currently we are on a planet where people only spend half their lives as human!'


	15. Chapter 15

'Harry,' the Doctor told him when he entered. 'I've almost run out of options regarding your uncle Moony, but I wanna try one last thing before giving up.' 

Harry looked at him expectantly. 'May use one of his gifts? I promise they won't be damaged in the process,' the Doctor continued. 'The TARDIS can try to extrapolate his timeline from it, the older the better, from birth to death. But it can only work if there are sufficient memories attached to it, so it can't be any random thing he bought you, it _has_ to be old and beloved.'

'Alright,' Harry said. 'Maybe this airplane will do? The comics are certainly beloved, but more by my dad then him, I got the impression.' The Doctor paused in the opening of the right circuits. 'You don't want to see him?'

'My aunt says he's a drunk who died because he drove while drunk,' Harry said, shrugging. He saw no reason to doubt that. (Later, he would be furious. But not now.)

They landed in a peaceful suburb at night in front of a house. It was all silent, save for front door creaking. As they watched, a little girl with short brown hair, certainly no older then four went out, making her way to a little stuffed bear. Then, everything happened very fast; there was a snarl, as a large creature leapt over the wooden picket fence and in a blink and a prayer, it was at the boy, before he even had time to scream. Even the Doctor wasn’t fast enough to stop it. Almost immediately it jumped back, and it would surely have mauled the kid, had the Doctor not interfered. With a snarl to match the creature’s, and icy glare he stepped between it and the creature. 

‘I am the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, Warrior of the Time War, _Destroyer_ of the Daleks. I _bargained_ with the Vashta Nerada, and I _succeeded,’_ He said, seeming rather impressive in the moonlight, although small next to the creature, which seemed to melt in the shadows, growling and trying to get past him. ‘I am the Warrior-Who-Is-Unarmed,’ he warned, fiddling with something in his pockets. The creature… flinched. ‘You. Will. Not. Harm. That kid.’ There was a almost protesting whine before it turned and run. 

‘I did not realize that creature understood English,’ Harry said, rather impressed. ‘Or that it knew the meaning of any of that,’ he added. The Doctor very nearly grinned, as he made his way to the girl. ‘Sonic screwdriver.’ 

_Oh._ ‘That’s not _nearly_ as impressive,’ he said, almost accusingly as he joined the Doctor. She looked badly hurt, blood flooding from her arm and shoulder. A terrible thought occurred to him. ‘Was that - Was that Moony?’

The Doctor never made an answer, as they had to hurry back to the TARDIS (the parents came out, and the Doctor said it wouldn't be the first time he was accused of being the monster), but he _had_ managed to significantly increase her chance of survival while he was there, while Harry tried to hold her still as gently as he could. (Years later, Lupin would have no idea why he gravitated towards a certain Potter, despite them being, at first sight, nothing alike)  
  
In the darkness, something _grinned._

* * *

As he sat in his (rather uncomfortable) chair, Dumbledore would have sighted if he allowed himself such a open expression of either tiredness or boredom. Lucius was trying to push once _again_ a law prohibiting what Muggleborns could learn at Hogwarts and do after their education.

'They won't even _want_ to be here,' he argued. 'They have _no roots_ here, they'll want to marry a nice Muggle and get a job they won't have to hide from their spouse.'

'I am telling you, it isn't happening, Lucius,' Dumbledore said, almost lazily save for the glint in his eyes. 'While they're at _my_ school, they'll learn what everyone learns. In fact,' he added, nearly grinning, 'I am thinking about ettiquete classes for everyone, as _some_ purebloods will stand out like a sore thumb in _any_ company.' He sat back, watching the Wizengamot bicker about it ("hm... that is actually a good idea." "No! They'll learn it at home, from their family!" "How are you epecting Muggle-borns to gain roots in our world if they miss crucial information?" "-me things shouldn't be taught institutionally." and so on and so forth). This was one thing Malfoy had clearly not seen coming, so it was a thing nobody was in his pocket about. What he was hearing now was their honest opinion, he thought, pleased. It was funny how sometimes it almost contradicted their earlier position, he noted out loud, to some embarassed consternation that provoked a new bout of bickering.  
  
From his high chair where he watched far and wide, Odin, God of magic, poetry and war, watched. 


	16. Temporary hiatus

I seem to have accidentally planned a doorstopping series, with lots to look forward to: Marauders, Character Development, generally fleshed out characters... in order to really do it justice I intend to rewrite it so it fits the tone and the canon from the books. So, while you won't see any new chapters for a while, the chapters you _do_ see will be hopefully much improved! 

The good news is that most of it is planned out in more detail now, so it should all look a bit smoother! I hope you look forward to it as much as I do!


	17. Chapter 17

Hello there, and sorry for disappearing on y'all! Unfortunately my laptop experiences great difficulties, and my phone is not well suited to writing. The good news is, that I have good hopes to sort it soonish. The bad news is that the weather (snow that has frozen over) makes any venture outside a quest not undertaken lightly, so it’ll be some time (def more time than I want) and that I need a part from a store.


	18. Chapter 16 (properly)

There was no noise in the woods. Harry looked around carefully. Something snorted, not too far away. He went for his stunner. The Doctor hated weapons, but he had offered to make Harry a stunner after the last kidnapping. Said he could set it to small, medium, large, extra large and enormous, for differently sized opponents. It sent stunning bolts and shocked nearby opponents. It also made tea and could roast bread into toast. 

The snorting had been awfully low. He set the stunner to ‘large’. Then, after some hesitation, to ‘extra large’. 

The Doctor could arrive any minute, he reminded himself. 

At that moment, there was a slight creaking behind him and a short ‘woosh’. Without thinking about it, Harry ducked and rolled, landed against the bushes and got up facing the being.

Not that it helped: it was pitch dark and all he could see was long arms, glinting claws and teeth. Too many teeth for comfort. 

Harry took the shot. A slight sizzling confirmed the hit and the being went down.

‘Hello!’ 

‘I am here, Doctor!’ Harry called out. 

‘Have you found him?’

’Looks like it,’ Harry replied, trying to see more of the being he supposed to be the Yeti. ‘I think we can bring him to Sirius right away!’ 

‘Good job!’ The Doctor said brightly. ‘I lost him for a minute.’

’I noticed,’ Harry remarked. 

The Doctor winced when he saw the claws. ‘Are you okay?’

’What? Oh, yeah, fine,’ Harry said, not paying attention. Did that claw move?

Suddenly everything went very fast. The claw moved up at the same time Harry fired. Harry had to change course rapidly from forward to examine to stumbling backwards and firing blindly. Now the groggy growling Yeti stood between him and the Doctor, which was a bit of a problem. Fortunately, it was a rather large target and not entirely awake yet. It shouldn’t take long to take it down again. 

Ten minutes later they were running towards the TARDIS, the Yeti leaping and running after them. 


	19. The first transformation with the Marauders

A dog ran into his room. The wolf sniffed. He had marked the room as his again, so why was there a intruder? The smell was familiar, promising fun. The deer that followed smelled more serious, and between his antlers sat a rat who smelled of sweat and fear and insecurity and delight and pride.

The dog barked, ran back towards the door and looked back at him. _Come on, follow me!_

The wolf wouldn’t follow anyone. Who did this whelp think he was? 

He growled a warning. _Don’t challenge me._

From up the deer’s head, the rat tittered. 

The dog growled, too,his haunches rising. _Don’t threaten me._

Both jumped. In mid-air, they met, growls muffled by fur, teeth clicking together as they snapped and snarled at each other, thudding on the ground. 

They fought until they were tired, and slowly, after they had tested each other’s strength, it got more playful, until at last they fell asleep together while the deer and the rat kept watch. 

When the fight was done, neither of them had sustained much damage as most of the bites had hit air. 

The next night, the dog padded into his room silently. Without looking at the wolf, Sirius laid down. After a while, there was a heavy weight on his back. He curled up and saw the wolf’s gigantic head on his back. That was gonna ache in the morning. 

Then, there was a slight chittering as a rat ran up to the wolf and made himself comfortable in his fur. The wolf closed his eyes and sighed, apparently viewing it more as a massage than a annoyance, the way the rat nestled and pulled at the hairs around him. The deer, having entered last, laid down next to them. For a while, it was quiet.   
Suddenly there was a snarl, and with a squeaky snicker the rat saw himself forced to leap away, a strand of hair still in his mouth. He ducked under the piano, which the wolf effortlessly trashed behind him, weaved under a table, and sprinted out of the door.   
  


Without thinking about it, the wolf followed him, and within seconds, they were outside. The rat made a u-turn and began to _actually climb up the wolf’s legs_ while the wolf was distracted from the many smells permeating the night air; grass, burning wood and all sorts of animals who rustled all around him. He hadn’t smelled the humans in the village - not yet. The rat began again to burrow into the wolf’s fur and began to apologetically flea him. The wolf rumbled a bit and ignored him. Meanwhile, both the deer and the dog had followed him, both trying furiously to cuss Peter out without speaking, with varying amounts of success. The gist of it got across though. Herding the wolf back it was practically impossible; the wolf lunged past them whenever they tried, biting, growling and snarling and snapping at them both. At last, they let him be. Cheerfully, the wolf began his mission to eradicate all squirrels in the area, and the troupe of animals resigned themselves to following him.  
  
The wolf chased after several squirrels before catching one, killing it effortlessly. Then he returned to the dog and offered it. The dog sniffed, looking as if he’d never seen a dead squirrel! Gently, the wolf began pushing the dog’s head towards it. When that didn’t help, he prodded the dog with his nose. When he was sure he had his attention, he took a bite, looking up expectantly. _This is how you eat a squirrel. Come on, eat it eat it eat it!_

The dog looked rather nonplussed. Slowly, the rat came down over the wolf’s head. The wolf stepped away. _Here, have a try._

Hesitantly, the rat nibbled, looking up at the wolf to see if he was doing it right. The wolf looked as comforting as a enormous predator can look to a rat. The rat stopped rather fast, though. A lightbulb went off in the wolf’s head. They don’t like squirrel!  
  


Immediately he barged off elsewhere to find prey they would like, while the rat tried to spit out the little bit of meat he had ingested and the full amount of his nibbles and climb a already running Sirius at the same time. Sadly, it didn’t entirely work. The deer was already running next to the wolf, easily leaping over branches and trees, steering him deeper into the woods. They ran on the outside of the village now, towards Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. The dog easily loped through the village, which was a decent shortcut.  
  
He began to run, seemingly for the sheer joy of it, as the rat held on as best as he could, poking his head out from the haunches occasionally. Here, it was warm and comfortable, but he also loved the feeling of the wind rushing past him and the many smells - hot midnight snacks mixed with mowed grass and his fellow rats, with a undercurrent of wood, water and insects and the smell of canine delight all around him (the rat didn’t really like that as much as the human part of Peter, but the human told his more frightened self that they were friends and protectors and the rat will just have to get over itself). 

They began slowing down. On a field with all sorts of flowers, they saw a half-eaten squirrel, but the wolf was standing by a fresh rabbit. His snout was bloody, now, and his eyes had a triumphant glint in them as he pushed the rabbit towards the dog. The dog sniffed. He realized that the wolf wanted to feed him and possibly Peter and that he would keep looking for prey until the dog ate, never realizing that they’d never want raw meat. With rabbit, he could at least pretend it was just like rabbit. Really rare made rabbit. Slowly, he took a bite, after the wolf showed him were to bite. Then he made a great show of eating until he was full and sighting with satisfaction. The wolf looked ridiculously happy at that, his tongue lolling out, rolling in the grass and rubbing his back and the middle of his head against trees with a lack of reservation that Remus would be ashamed off, Sirius realized with a lurch of his stomach.   
  
In the morning, they watched him transform back and hid nearby. Subconsciously Remus rubbed his fingertips on the wood as he stumbled out the door. _I was here_ , it said, as soft-spoken as the boy himself. 


End file.
